Alone Together
by prettilitTLepoison
Summary: Superjail!... But before, I was muted, living life like a can opener that was stuck on a metal ridge, squeaking and going nowhere, but always having a place to go in the end. Sequel to 'Impossible'. I may have the Warden's perspective in here a little.
1. Hot to Cool

in fact, i wish i never met him

in fact, i wish i never even let him

in my life

presently, he haunts me in my every single breath

like a vapor

of laughter, memories that cloud and fade, but grow stronger anyway

a vapor

that crawls with me in bed

and even when i am with_ him_

_i feel alone _sometimes

not lonely, but alone

because when i think about my new, strange and wonderful relationship with the Warden,

i can't help but feel a twinge of Allie

in there

and because they both seemed so confused at first

and circumstances overlap and muddle and drain,

i can't help but see the

same old situation,

the same old shocking

strain

. . .

--

Why can't I just let myself be a little happy for once.

Things have been opened up, fresh and new, and we both see each other differently, I think. I do anyway. But before, I was muted, living life like a can opener that was stuck on a metal ridge, squeaking and going nowhere, but always having a place to go in the end. And because of one single relationship, I've remained in love _so long_, I almost have forgotten the pure joy it was to find a new one.

One.

That's it. Its _him_.

And here I am.

And I think its time for a change.

I think its time for Jared to be happy.

Here I am. Here I stand.

--

The Warden is smiling at me, and I'm smiling at him.

"Why are you smiling?" I say to him.

"Your smiling too," he replies wittily, rolling his sugar spoon in his hot mug of coffee.

Its like some cheesy romance song is playing.

So loudly, even the in mates can hear. They're staring.

He ignores it, happily oblivious, but I start to sweat.

Alice rolls her eyes, and hits the mallet against her palm threateningly. Everyone goes about their business promptly, and I sigh in relief, thanking Alice quietly in my head.

I sit down next to him, and catching me off guard, he touches my hand a little.

I jump a little in surprise, but intertwine our fingers loosely.

He leans a little closely to my ear and whispers like we are alone together: "The coffee is too hot." He draws out 'hot' like melting sugar on his lips.

"Cool it down for me." He says with a funny glint in his eye.

I blush.

He laughs.

"Do it yourself." I mutter.

He just keeps on laughing.

--

Oh, no, we haven't made love yet. Its way, way, way too early. And well, the thought sort of scares me... but...

We're just so happy and it doesn't matter.

I don't even know why, I mean the whole thing is just so bizarre, the way we ended up together. I read my other journal entries, and it sounds like, like, oh I don't know! Like I'm a maniac!. . . .

Why would the Twins do this, and why in such a horrible, demeaning way; all to bring _us together_?

I mean, its like we're drunk, we're so happy. I just hope its not empty, and it lasts. I hope we don't crash and burn. I hope _we_ last.

But anyway, I found out he doesn't like to touch very often.

But then I wonder, is he a virgin?

No, not to women. I mean to guys.

I know he's had one or two affairs with women.

But even then, he said, he doesn't like touch that much, for too long.

That's when he told me he doesn't know_ what_ he's attracted to, generally, but _when_ he's attracted to someone, he knows. It makes sense, but still--

I think: then why kiss me? Why touch me like that just days earlier? It was intoxicating. . .

Maybe that's a good reason to not touch.

Maybe it clouds our minds, and weakens our self control.

But I'm not clouded, and I am patient, and I know that this is more than a strange little fling.

_I_ know.

--

We talk a lot now.

He tells me little things about his life.

Like how his father died when he was very young.

How he died was a little bizarre, and I could tell he was very upset about the whole thing.

Like he never got over the fact that his father's death gave him so much, and in fact, really so little.

And then he asks me about myself.

And I go quiet.

He wonders, I can tell, and for some reason, I like that I am a mystery, at least, for now.

We aren't very physical, but sometimes I like to kiss his cheek, just because I can. Its like a game.

He runs, I pounce.

Like a cat chasing a very delicious little mouse. (I'm NOT a pervert!!!!!!!!!!)

But its very innocent.

He's very innocent, and it surprises me how much I have learned about him in these past couple weeks.

--

Throughout our time together, we have grown almost suffocatingly close to each other. And what's more surprising, he asked me for a date, all shy-like and stuff, but when he showed me his bedroom, I was a little nonplussed. It was very innocent though. He wanted more of a private setting, really, and got out a bottle of white wine. I politely refused, and as soon as he asked why, he slapped his forehead, saying, "Duh, you're an alcoholic." And then he looked at me, a little embarrassed and said, "Sorry."

I told him he could drink if he wanted, and we just kept going back and forth and he really seemed to care about what I thought, until he relented and got a glass for himself.

I found out that night that he has a surprisingly ideal knowledge of wine, red or white, how its made, the process, the intricacies, and how age can make anything better. He's very, very---I don't know how to describe it. I just love listening to him, and I never feel nervous when we're alone---together, but sometimes I worry, but I worry anyway. I laugh out loud, and I smile as big as I can, and I don't sweat. Well, maybe a little, but that's okay. He doesn't complain.

He decided we should dance, and being that he was tipsy, it was very amusing---and very overwhelming, he touches a lot more when tipsy/drunk.

Anyway, he put on this saucy, slow song, a little fast towards the middle, and polka like in the end. I don't know who the artist was. But he's a very good dancer. I'm not, but he's so good, you don't need to know what your doing, he just shows you, and you follow.

Since our date, we've grown comfortable being together a lot more, even if we're not saying or doing anything, in his room, on his bed. That's where we go at the end of long days. Its a haven to me. He is a haven. Heaven.

--

We talked a little about Faryn.

He says he's tried to forgive, and now its time to forget.

I can't forget. I can't forgive.

It bothers me to no end how he can be so optimistic.

We haven't seen the Twins yet, and I am dreading it.

I don't know whether to hate them, or love them for what they did.

I want to think they had good intentions, because what came out of it was good.

But it bothers me.

It really, really does. And the fact that I can't pin point _why,_

Terrifies me,

For the Warden's sake, and for everything my life has become to this point.

--

"I want to know what your real name is!" I say, lying on my side, my eyes on his bright glasses.

"What do you mean?" He asks with a soft surprise. Obviously a subject he never thought about.

"I mean, you must've had a real name before you became the 'Warden' and everyone has one!" I say with determination, I mean, who wants to call their lover a name that entitles their career? I don't say that though. "Don't you remember what your father used to call you?" I practically blurt out, but its too late, he's already upset.

"What do _you_ think Jared?" He hisses, the soft, nice mood of before tilted and bewildered, angry.

I suddenly feel like I should leave the room, and fast, but I stay.

"I-I don't think so--"

"Exactly! So why would you ask a question like that?"

"I'm sorry." I say softly.

He softens his anger to a mild flare. "Just watch what you say."

I don't look at him, and I'm sort of angry, him treating me like I'm a child. Things have been bothering me, and I've been meaning to discuss it with him. His name is a touchy subject, and I should have been a little more tactful, but still. Its not even about his name anyway.

"Its okay, Jared. I mean, I just don't remember much about my childhood." He said gently, touching my shoulder. I relax a little, but I still don't look at him.

He runs his fingers along my stomach, and sits his head on my thigh.

"You can give me a nickname if you like." He winks, and his gap shows a little in his smile. (ohhh I love that gap...)

"Like what, for when we're alone?"

"Duh!" He says, looking at me oddly, his sock covered feet swinging in the air, his stomach against the royal purple sheets.

A few moments of peace swirl within us, a comfortable silence. But I always have to show my worry. Sometimes I can't help it.

"How long do you think we'll last?" I ask.

He looks at me even more oddly. "Why think about it? Whatever happens will happen. Right now is all we got. Enjoy it." He gestures at me, his smile unfailing.

I smile at him, but then I furrow my brow. "What about Alice? What about the rule against dating co-workers?"

He laughs. I frown. "You worrywart! Stop raining on my parade! What's up with you? Why so blue?" He makes a pouty face at me, moving comically close to my face. I scoff lightly, and look away.

"Uh, I...don't know. I just think a lot."

"Like with my name, me, and the Twins, and me, and rules and rules and rules and me!" I smile wryly on how he repeated 'me' like three times. "And... _Al_ice." He says Alice with a hint of sarcasm.

I just stay quiet. He rolls his eyes, then looks at me meaningfully.

"You think I'm going to run off with Alice?"

"I don't know. I just don't know why you'd want me. I mean, I'm not fishing for compliments or anything but--"

"You? You're interesting."

"Yeah. Sure." I roll my eyes.

"No, no, no. I see it. You have a, how do they say it, sort of air of mystery about you. And though you're so open, you still hide certain parts of yourself. I never realized how much I disregarded about you. I think I have just opened up, and now, I see you in a new light, in a lot of new ways..." He says lowly, and I can't help but wonder about his tone, its almost, seductive? He trails off, and then jumps up and sits back down in a bounce.

"I am truly, truly, very, very, very sorry about treating you so badly in the past!" He says in a sing song way, his rainbows fluttering above him, and I laugh and appreciate what he is trying to say, and then he is serious all of a sudden. "And Alice, well, I don't know. I don't know about her." He furrows his brow in thought. "I have you. I don't need anyone else right now." He says, and I suddenly am filled with adoration for him. I could just kiss him.(!)

"A--and," He says, "Me and you are going to change that policy. Tommorrow. Kay? I'm the Warden, and I--"

"About that---I think I have the perfect nickname for you."

"Oh?"

"Johnny." I say, and I think although its plain, it suits him, and I like it a lot.

"Okay. But its a little _bori_ng!" He teases. "Oh! I want to give you a bedroom name!"

I blush. "Bedroom name?"

"When we're in the bedroom?" He says bluntly, sarcastic, with an air of cockiness, and for some reason, it doesn't bother me. I love everything about _him_.

"Okay. I guess--"

"Neo!" He says, clasping his hands together.

"Neo?" And then I realize _that's_ my nickname.

"I like it for you!"

"Its... kind of..." I start to say, but then his face gets all fluttery, and I can't say anything.

"I like it, it suits you..." He says with a rough whisper, and there's something in his eye, and its warm. . .

"Okay, Neo." And I have to admit, its odd, but its kind of cute. How does he come up with such colorful ideas?

"My Neo..." He drawls against my skin, getting closer and closer. My heart raises a few degrees, and its kind of, dare I say it, _kinky_, to have him call me this, like I'm a different person. Not Jared.

He hugs me, his face against my neck.

Hot lips touch cool skin---

I melt, and fall into his touch.

And I neither feel alone, or lonely.

Just---alone

together.

--


	2. Tonight I'm not the Warden

Work has become a drain, and Johnny,_ I mean the_ Warden has not made me any favorite. He doesn't want Alice to get angry of playing the favorites. But I don't say how he used to play favorites all the time with Alice.

We changed some policies today, including dating co-workers. No PDA while working though. I'm more than okay with that.

Sometimes touches make me skittish.

Sometimes, touches, even air light, can make me sigh and writhe.

He wants me to grow my hair out, and shave my moustache! He says it reminds him of a Mexican bandit, on the run.

I think my brain is tired.

--

there's many theories on why we yawn...

but here's _my _why---

Why must we analyze everything?

its a yawn, and whether it's to let off some steam, cool our body temperature, give our brain some slack, or just because we're tired or bored,

it doesn't change that---

That's something he has taught me. Just let things happen---don't try to complicate things, unless, well, it really is complicated.

And now, finally I have worked out a tight budget for him, with a extra amount on the side for each year, for emergencies and occasional spending sprees.

And I make him promise that he will try to keep the budget... and then I say again just because I am sick of it and I like to tease him:

No. More. (over)Zealous. Spending.(!)

He nods his head, but all I see is jumping rabbits, mad and grinning, like the Cheshire Cat, and his mind spins and occasionally tilts my viewpoint, and sometimes I feel like we can be one.

--

We went on another date---and he decided we should go out---outside of Superjail.

He was holding my hand, pulling me, trying to get me leave, cause I was scared. Not because we were going 'out' but because I have read through Superjail's rules---and it says clearly there must always be a Warden present.

And then he said, "I took care of it. Come on, tonight I'm not the Warden, and tonight," He smiles, "Your not Jared. Let's just go wild!"

After a while, I believe him, and I let him pull me away---we take an elevator down and out and then I see this hot shot, wicked looking violet Viper. And hell, it impresses me, even though I am wondering how we afforded it.

"Fine, but I would like to buy some smokes." I say, laughing at my spunk. I haven't smoked in years.

"Neo, you are too much. What do you smoke?" He asks, looking at me with a soft smile, his eyes glowing. The night is clear and crisp, and I intake a breath---and I feel high with life.

"Gitanes." I say simply.

"French smokes?"

"Sure, why not?"

"You are surprising."

"How?"

"I don't know... Let's go!" He pulls in the front seat and takes out these bright yellow keys that have a purple key-chain, and _zoom_---into the ignition it goes.

He starts the car, and yells loudly, "We're outta here!" And the gas pedal, then engine, his every move, and the night, roars and pulsates.

And I start to feel young again.

I find out we're going to a club, but it's totally old school. It's a cute little place nestled around miles of white sand and a wispy sea, and it reminds me of a beach house, only a little smaller. The shutters are pale white, with wet sand cornering the bottom edges, the porch lined with tacky green lining, and best of all; I hear jazz music in the air from the outside. I adore it. We jump out of the car and land in the sand like some teenagers. The sign in the sand reads: **Beach goers beware, sharks bite. Come on in and have a drink, you won't sink! **

"Whew! Let's go! Hey, would it be okay if I have one of those cigarettes first?" He says in excitement, and I gladly share with him my teenage favorite.

"We'll share it," I say, smoking my first Gitane in years, with _him_.(!)

I even light it up for him, and when he holds my hand unabashedly, I am floating---

And he inhales slowly as we take turns smoking it, and his eyes look at me, and I look at him.

"How'd you know about this place?" I ask, puffing a little, inhaling a little, passing it to him.

"Oh, um," He inhales and I can tell he hasn't smoked much in his life, but its passable. "I wanted to save it for when I.." He blushes. "If Alice..." He trails off, and I nod, and say, "Oh well."

"I'm glad its you instead." He says clearly, and looks at the darkening sky, and its a perfect mix of cool and warm out.

I smile, and look down, then up at him again. He looks so adorable in those dark purple jeans and worn out gray tee, and here I am in jeans and a over sized blue shirt---that of which I borrowed from him. The pants are mine.

"These cigarettes are really smooth, I like them." He looks surprised.

"I can't believe they still sell them." I say mostly to myself.

"Yeah," He nods.

A wisp of wind glows around us.

"You wanna swing with me?" He asks suddenly, and he looks so damn lovely. I just know I'm going to stutter like an idiot in there!

"I-I don't know how?"

"Oh come on!" He puts out the burning smoke. "I'll show you. Just do whatever feels right."

"Oh, alright."

What feels right?

A number blasts to an end, and people are leaving the dance floor as we walk in. Inside, there's a large white and blue bar, a circular black and white dance floor (that circles around the whole bar), and as we start to settle, its then a slow one starts up.

He winks at me, and leans down, saying: "We can wait till the mushy stuff is over if you want."

What feels right?

Its sort of mellow, Glenn Miller sounding and I kind of like it. It feels...

What feels right?

"I want to dance with you right now!" I say, smiling, and he grins, like that's what he wanted my answer to be.

"This feels right." I say softly, furrowing my brow, and trying to make it feel less awkward of our height difference, believing my words despite the oddity. We aren't very close to each other yet. Slowly, we're moving, trying to feel out the music, the dance floor, trying to get our own spot on it. Its crowded as hell, even as people already left it.

"Hey," He leans down, "Its okay. I don't care that your short."

"Hey, you mean I don't care that your so tall!" I say and he laughs.

"I didn't say 'so' short..." He says, in mock hurt.

I roll my eyes, and oddly, in a swift motion, he pulls me amazingly close to his body. I smell his clothes, and I look up at him...

The music is suddenly all that exists.

Tension builds, and I want him, all of him, as we're in our 'civilian' clothes... all rustic and clean and pure, his smell is so familiar and so enticing, so dark and musky and male.

"Neo?" He asks.

"Yeah Johnny?"

He looks down at me, and touches my cheek with a light finger.

Its almost like he's trying to tell me something.

"Y-you're.." He looks away for a second.

"You're so beautiful." I say suddenly, the words roaring over the lyrics and music and people, and his eyes are searchlights I gladly let in.

"Ah, Gracia's, senor." He teases, but I can tell he is a little surprised I said that.

"I told you, I'm not getting rid of this." I point to my moustache.

"I will do it for you one day," He teases.

And then, someone bumps into us, causing Johnny to bump into me, and that's when a blast of passion lifts me, and I pull him toward my face. Our eyes meet for the millionth time, only this time, its so much brighter, so much more alive, and it...

"Jared, I--" He starts to say.

feels...

And then we fall, him on top of me.

Laughter peels, and our lips brush, other couples staring at us. We get up, stumbling in our giggles and practically scream-like laughter, running outside to contain ourselves.

And the night ends late at 2 A.M., and there's still more than half a pack of Gitanes left, and I don't think I'll ever know what he was trying to tell me, but---

What feels right?

I think I could do this forever.


	3. Blowing on Soup

After our date, we head off into bed, and I sleep like a damn rock.

We wake up late.

I call him, his own personal alarm clock (Oh no! We do NOT sleep together!) and starting with a "hrrumph....ah...I'm Sleepin'!" I hear him.

"It's Neo." I smile, stretching.

"Oh, hi," His sleepy face looks at the screen, at me, then at his pillows. "I'm gonna sleep for just a few more minu--"

"You can't!"

"Leave me alone!" He growls.

"Do I need to come in there?" I tease, but I know I might just have to.

"Maybe..." He laughs.

"No, I think that's what you want," I tease back.

"Whatever Jared..." He says my name like this: Jaaareeeed--- all tired and lazy.

"Just go to work, I'll be in soon." He mumbles.

"I'll be waiting!" I say, then cut the transmission.

--

I find out in the Staff Mess Hall:

"Some shit faced bastards had to screw up my morning, though I did get to kick some ass." Alice said with a little grin, looking at her bloody fingernails with glee. I tremble a little. "It was a standard riot, though there wasn't as much bloodshed as usual. Jailbot didn't even have to intervene." She sounds more disappointed about less carnage than the fact that the riot messed up her morning. And what's a 'standard' riot, anyway?

"Ah, um, so are things under control now?" I'm shaking at the thought, mostly because I once had to play undercover as an in mate...

"Sure, the ones who started it are in severe lock down." I couldn't imagine Alice's version of 'severe lockdown'. I shudder a little inside.

She seems to be losing interest, but I need to ask her a question before the Warden comes in.

"Have you seen the Twins at all?"

"Huh?" Alice asks, not at all interested.

"Did you see the Twins at all?!" My voice gets a little squeaky.

"No. Why?"

"No reason."

I look away, still feeling her eyes on me like burning bullets; and I know if we have eye contact, she might be able to see right through me, so I walk away.

The rest of the week goes smoothly (_pretty _smoothly), and I steer clear of Alice, cause she seems very standoffish, especially when she sees me and the Warden together. I mean, its not like we're all lovey dovey around her, or we hold hands all the time, or anything. I don't know.

-

Now it seems, I'm up at the crack of dawn, and he seems to be sleeping in more and more, and when when I told him I'm _not_ his personal alarm clock, he smiled and said, "Well one of these days I'm not going to get up, and you're going to have to come in here... and teach me a lesson." The insinuation makes me blush.

--

The Warden's not listening to me. It's a Monday, and he's tired. The weekend was great, and we went out for dinner, well not out, but in Superjail we did. Its not like we swan the English channels, or made love over and over (I'd like to do that one day, but still, he remains oddly innocent about things like that, and really we don't even kiss that much...) until we can't stand, but we did do **a lot**.

"Don't we have our usual Monday morning meeting to attend to?" I say more than ask, a smile creeping through my usual business like manner, watching his weary, tired eyes, almost red, dozing and his hand under his chin falling.

"Ah...no." He replies.

I shrug. "What about all those plans we went over?" I mean for the new renovations for the east-part of Superjail, the part that honestly really needs to be renovated because it has become so old. I mean, damn, the bars are rusting, most parts are falling apart, the security system inconsistent with the rest of the jail, and also apparently needs a 'little more sunshine' or so the Warden says.

"We already went over them."

I roll my eyes, and grab my plans and walk off.

"Oh come on Jared, don't be like that!" He calls out.

Just then as I shut the door, he pops out of no where, and I nearly jump out of my skin.

"Don't do that!" I say half in surprise and half in annoyance.

His eyes are more awake, and his mood warms into mine. "Don't you..." He breaths, "Don't you walk away from me." He says firmly.

I see the serious expression on his face and for a second, we stare at each other. I know I should be more serious but I can't help it---

I feel a tickle in my throat, and I laugh, laugh at him---

"What?" He asks, hands on his hips.

"Your shirt's not buttoned all the way, and you have pillow marks on your face." I say plainly.

He looks down and huffs and starts buttoning his shirt, then realizes his shirt doesn't even have buttons.

I laugh at him even harder.

He growls, pulls me by my own shirt.

"Okay, okay, Jared, I'm listening." He relents, as we walk into his office.

He smiles a little, and gives me a kiss on my cheek.

"You better be." I say. He gives me a shove and I stick my tongue at him.

--

The Warden and I meet up for lunch.

"How's your day going?" I ask as we sit at a table for two.

"Ah, its okay."

He seems distracted. He clears his throat, and looks at his soup like there's something solid, something alien in it.

"Good." I say, settling into my seat.

Silence becomes our conversation for awhile. He barely touches his food, or drink.

Distracted, all I can do it stare at my own lunch, I mean, I can't look at him, maybe I'll see something, like a hesitation or something. Maybe about me, about us.

Then he places his hand on my own, and I breath in a little relief. It's scary how somethings he can read my mind, or I with his.

I look up a little.

"What's wrong?" I say. "You look like your food's gonna come alive and eat you before you have the cha--"

"Its...its the Twins. I saw them today." He says lowly, blowing on his soup, messing with his soda straw.

Oh.

I can't catch my breath.

I hold his hand tight, then our eyes finally meet the right way.

"Wh..what happened?"

"They asked me if I was happy." He blew on the soup a little harder. "They asked if a murderer had the right to be happy." His smile was like a twitch, an involuntary twitch, and it scared me. I softly ran my thumb along his palm. "And they came to tell me that I was a fun little toy, but now they were bored, just wanted to follow through and..." he looked at me, scared. "See if I was happy."

My mouth went dry, and my words were hoarse. "You don't think they're gonna try anything anymore?"

"I don't think so."

"Why not?" I asked, disbelieving those two menaces would be done messing with---my boyfriend, boss, friend?

All of the above.

"Because although they seem very insincere and full of _shit_," He got the pepper and put a little in his soup, stirring a little rapidly, "They know if they try one more thing, anything, I'll... I'll..." He breaths a little. "They pulled one over me, I get it. But don't you see, they had the power to really get rid of me, but they didn't, did they?" He stops a second and leans closer, edging his chair, the wood squeaking on the tile floor. "They just want to fuck with me, scare me, right? But when it comes down to it, its all a damned head game. That's all they ever do. And when they don't, they're like little children."

My head is spinning. As he's shown me security in myself, I start to see it in him, and us, and right now, every single word I breath in, I believe in, strongly, and my hold on his hand softens. And its odd, not too long ago, before all this happened, I would obsess and worry and over-analyze things, simple _and_ complex, till my brain just about fell out. Now, its less and less, and I feel myself becoming calmer, stronger, louder---even wilder... while he... he has become softer, more articulate, more level headed, still his same old eccentrically crazy self (And I love that)---just---

"And yes, J, I am happier." He smiles, satisfied, maybe relieved to have told me this. And I feel it, glowing within him. He trusts me.

He didn't say happy...he said happier.

And I say. "I always knew you were." I whisper.

A few moments later, he's eating and so am I.

--

A few days later go by, then two weeks, and things become very much back to normal (Twins and in mates and Alice all just the same, like how it was way before), and we decide to go on another date this weekend.

(!)I can't flippin' wait.


	4. That's you then, Gorgeous

"What do you believe in? I mean, what state of mind makes you...tick? What makes you think?" He says wistfully, his eyes on fire.

"I..." _wasn't expecting that question..._

"Hmm?" He coaxes me.

"I was raised a Catholic, but otherwise..."

"No, not what you were_ taught_ to believe, what_ you_ believe." He says, his hands in the air. "On your own."

We're in his room, and he's holding a glass of Merlot, red wine, but he's just started, its only his first glass. I smell it, the perfume of it wafting gingerly, and I feel inspired for some odd reason.

"Well, I think life is like, well, all one big chunk of experiences, how you let it affect you, your karma. I think karma is important." I look at him, and he is totally hanging on every bit of dribble I am saying. I smile. "Like, well, balance is important too. You need some kind of balance, but you also need extremes. I've been a one monotone kind of guy the last several years, like never taking any chances or nothing much of anything, and you, you're like, I hate to be cliche, but you're like a rainbow!" He smiles, and listens on.

"Very different." He comments. I nod, and continue.

"I think, well, relationships, even small ones are important. They shape you. They change you." He's looking at me, all deft and calm. I'm on a roll now. "I don't know about spirituality all that much, but I've read about it, and I feel an affinity with it. It's not about just finding God or realizing He's there, really, its about appreciation, for everything, you know, for Him and everything He created, and the fact that they are both interchangeable. All the little moments, experiences..." What the hell am I saying... the last time I checked, I thought life wasn't about happiness, it was about growing spiritual wealth... now... "You know, Johnny, I never realized it till now, but damnit, do I love life."

He nods at me, and I just keep on talking. I've never talked so much in my life. "I think there is a God. I really do. But I think he's more than just a man with long curly hair and bare feet," He laughs at this point, "I think He's in everything, in the trees and flowers and rocks and insects, the humming, the buzzing---the world. Don't you ever get like that, I mean when I was younger, I felt it... this sort of humming, loud and proud, of nature, of people, of animals too, that was _every_where. I'm sorry, I'm not making any sense, am I?"

He looks startled that I stopped. "Ah... no, no! You sound very sensible, Neo, I understand what you mean. Keep going."

"I just really, I don't know, see it now. It's so clear." I rub my eyes, and I feel a warm hand on my leg.

I look at him, and he looks so damn happy about something.

"What?" I ask.

He looks at me so brightly and then, "I love you."

I'm shocked, utterly shocked, drenched in his words, they uplift me, but I just sit there, a dumb look on my face.

He smiles, and then like a wave---

He slides and slithers around my body, and wraps his arms around me---

"Can't get in the pool and expect not to get wet." I say.

He laughs.

And then I realize it wasn't just for his benefit that I talk, and open up, it was for_ **me**_. Now I feel open, vulnerable (in a good way), and more trusting than ever before, and I start to understand my strange, amazing lover on a whole new level.

His eyes, fascinated, start to glow; and I fall into his embrace.

--

_His body leans against mine, and as I feel him, I go wild inside with _**red**_, _**carnivorous**_ lust. . . and my heart beats like a drum, and I move against him a little, and soon, we're both rocking, and he's mewing and crying and moaning and every little sound he makes only drives me---_

"Jared?" A voice calls out. "Jared!"

And then I realize its _him_. "Get up!" He stomping on my floor.

Damn it. I think.

I was dreaming. (Of course I was, like it really could be plausible for reality...)

Shit. And now he's here, in my room, waking me up...and I probably have a little surprise waiting under these sullen sheets. . .

Then I think, Its a damn Saturday, why in the hell?

"Come on Neo..." He's now pleading at me, pulling on my arm. "Please!" I feel his breath on me, and it really doesn't help with my problem here.

"Do I have to get under there with you?"

"NO! NO..." I practically scream, jumping up suddenly, only to cover myself up again, I clear my throat. "Ah, I mean, no. I'm awake, I'm awake."

He looks at me oddly, then smiles. "Okay, so I was thinking, we could go out for breakfast. Remember? Today's, I mean," He coughs comically, "Tonight's our date, but I don't care, I wanna go out right now!"

"Okay, so where?" I stay under the covers, but stretch and yawn. And then I see with horror he's crawling into my bed, slowly but surely, and his smile is getting bigger and bigger. Not so innocent anymore, are you?

"Actually, I was thinking we could stay in _your_ bed for a while..." He taunts me, and I think he knows what's going on. And a weird thought comes up---

I mean within our whole relationship (Three months and four days days and one hour and twenty seconds...) we've only kissed, I mean, _really_ kissed, four or five times. And each time was a little different, but never _sexual _or anything... and I think... how is he? _You know_... in bed? Just the thought brings me to my knees... um, metaphorically speaking of course.

"_Wh-wh-_what do you mean?" I know I'm shaking. He's over me now, practically straddling me. OhohohGOD! SAVE ME!

"Well, you know, maybe we can just... uh, cuddle?" He suggests.

Within the past couple weeks, he has been starting to warm up to touch, and honestly, so have I.

Its not like its 'spooning' or anything, but its really nice.

He likes to do it more than I do. . .

Well, I can't say I don't love it.

I can't say no to him, either, and soon, he crawls under the covers... and his fingers start gasping along my back, and we're not very close to one another, until---

He starts humming something, and then he says, "Is that for me?"

I gasp slightly as his fingers brush along the seam of my boxers and stomach. He's not even touching me there... and...

"Oh...hhh....please don't..." But I don't mean it.

He kisses me on the ear, lower, to my neck. Air, feather like brushes of his lips, and he knows he's torturing me.

"Oh J..._Johnny_..." I warn, but he pays no heed to it.

He body is closer, closer. . .

And then a soft moment, "Hey, uh..." He starts, "Look at me." I open my eyes a little. "I don't know what to do."

I laugh a little. "Its okay, gorgeous, don't worry." I kiss his cheek. So innocent. "I might teach you one day." I nod, and he blushes, a tint of pink.

"Don't call me gorgeous..." He says quietly, and stretches on the bed.

"But you are."

"No, no, I'm not."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm a man. Guys don't need to be beautiful."

"But you are." I say.

"No, I'm cute. Sexy, rowdy, tight..." He gets up from the bed and slides to the floor. "But not beautiful. How would you feel if I called you beautiful?" He asks, his eyes all accusatory.

"I don't know." I shrug. "Flattered I guess."

He laughs a little. "That's you then, gorgeous."

--


	5. To sink or swim

We settle in his Viper, and this time, instead of just driving to our supposed destination, The Original Pancake House, we stop by this low meadow on a ridge, overlooking the ocean. The sky is dim, a little gloomy, but it isn't cold out. I can't tell but it seems he is up to something...and I feel like this isn't just a little stop-by.

I rub my eyes and yawn, then see with astonishment on the radio clock that it is 5:45 A.M.

"Why in the...how did you wake up so early?"

He grins clicking a few seemingly random buttons, and then---_whoosh_---the top of the car flies open, and the wind sweeps past us.

"Supposed to be a really nice sunrise today. I feel it." He shines at me, and winks, pulling me out of the car and sliding me toward him.

"Ah, and pray tell, how exactly do you _feel _a sunrise coming?" I ask wryly, still yawning.

"I haven't done this in awhile, not since I was in my early twenties."

"What?"

He doesn't answer. "See that..." He points left toward a whole bunch of trees. "See that..." He repeats, and then I look a little further right, and then I see it, and my breath catches in my throat. It's gorgeous, a hilly mountain perched along this huge Weeping Willow; long, winding grass, wild flowers, rich greens, brighter than I have ever seen.

"I do." I say finally.

"That's where we're having breakfast." He smiles, taking out a large wicker basket from the trunk of the car, and everything he is doing is like on fast forward---while I am at a stand still. And then---he's right behind me, whispering, "Come on. We're going to miss the sunrise. This spot is going to be our secret little make out cove." And I think he is kidding, but as he's pulling me, I can tell he is not.

"Oh..." Is all I can say, as he's giggling like a snickering little school-boy, and all I can do is stare at this amazing spot.

He settles a little blanket on the grass, with the basket on top to keep it from flying away. Its all he can do to keep me from flying away---or sit still.

"You said you haven't done this awhile?" I ask, my voice a little squeaky with shock.

"Nope. Not since my last sink or swim with love."

"What happened?" But then I recall some aching feeling within him, fleeting, then---_zoom_--it flies by.

"I sunk." He replied blandly, then, he looks at me funny. Probably because I am just standing there, only moving when he is physically pulling me.

"Come on, l planned this weeks ago, and you're certainly not going to get a kiss from up there." And I look down, and he's already laid out.

I nod dumbly and sit next to him, but not too close.

"Come on, Neo-babe, just a little closer." He grins. And I can tell he's not being all perverty, but anyone else might say so.

I shake my head at him endearingly, but inside and just about outside I am glowing.

I scoot a little closer, and then he loses patience and practically pulls me on top of him. He laughs a little, and then when we get more situated, and a lot more comfortable, he leans close to my face, side to side, cheek to cheek. "Look out there, see that? I synchronized this just for you. When was the last time you saw a sunrise?"

"For years." And then I look straight ahead, and I see it.

"The sun's peeking over there, just waiting to soar over us." He points to a couple of high peak mountainous areas, and I already start to see its golden hues, reds and even some blues. . .

"Not too much longer." He sighs, and looks at me, and his smile is so gentle, so beautiful, so free.

"Johnny, I---Oh, I mean, thank you---um," I blush, and he shakes his head at me, probably wondering how I can be so blundering sometimes.

"Just......relax." He breaths in, and I follow.

I take his hand in mine.

He breaths in and leans in a little closer.

His right leg scoots up, and his free hand rests on the side of my face.

Moments rise in the air. Seconds become days.

Days become mere seconds.

The air is boiling, and our breath is cool.

and then---

--in a flash

Bright orange.

Gray blue.

Intense yellow. Gold.

Our eyes lock for a moment, then like a magnet, they rush toward the skies, and with a collective gasp, the sun collides with the clouds and melts with it colors so ethereal, we're engulfed.

--

"So," I crunch into some crusty bread with olive oil and cheese, "Tell me about the last time you were here."

He looks at his food, then me, "Ah, it was nothing."

"No, doesn't seem like it." _Especially since you took me here. . . that doesn't seem like nothing._

"Okay, okay. I'll tell you, if you promise to tell me one thing about you I don't know. And don't make it lame!" He points at me, with a funny tone in his voice, and I grin, nodding.

"Okay."

"Fine." He pours a little orange juice for us, in these crystal wine glasses, "Feels more elegant," he comments, and then bites into a blackberry.

"Mmm. Anyway," He looks at me, his big ole gap staring at me, and I want to kiss him. "She was a junior at this well-to-do Art school, and I was this naive little jazz-fanatic, and well--"

"Wait, you liked jazz?" I stare at him, fascinated.

"For awhile I did, well, I still do, but that's besides the point. Anyway," He clears his throat, indicating he does not want to be interrupted again, "This was before I established Superjail, I mean, I still had my father's jail, but I was too young, and I had other people to take care of it for me. Anyway, we meet at this party, and she's on the kitchen table, twirling her bra and screaming and telling everyone to turn up the music. The party was at an old friend's house; but I honestly didn't know anyone there."

He gets this gleam in his eyes, a little dark, a little pained, but always enigmatic---whenever he talks of his past.

"And then, like some horribly cliched teenage movie, we see each other, and she drops her bra, and time stops." He spreads his fingers apart, and places them an inch from my face, making me flinch, but then I smile again. "But once it stops, it starts up so fast, we can't understand what's happening until way afterward." He pauses and takes a drink, another blackberry, and he gets me so hungry, I reach for the plastic tin for the fruit, and pop a few in my mouth. So damn sweet.

"I take a few steps toward her, and I tell ya," He jabs me gently in the side, "She had the most angelic face, gorgeous pink lips, dark blue eyes, long black lashes," He whistles, "But---" He rolls his eyes, "Wasn't so gorgeous when she vomited all of a sudden, all over me--and then, and then!" He jumps up. I can't help but smile at his zealousness. "Had the nerve to faint on me! I mean, no one else would catch her! She could have hit her head against something!"

"So what happened afterward?"

"Oh, I set her down on my buddy's couch and I drank a few beers. Well, not a few, but even as I did, I couldn't stop thinking about her, you know?" He grabs an apple and crunches on it. "Well, I couldn't drive, right, cause I was _smashed_, so I decided to call one of my other friends who I was sure wasn't doing anything except sitting at home and reading or something," He laughed a little, "And I think ta call him to come pick me up. Then, well," He pauses again, drinking some more orange juice. "You still hungry, I got some hot cakes in there. I got a specially designed container to keep them hot and fresh." I nod and take it out of the huge wicker basket. The smell wafts through my nose, and I practically inhale them.

"Well," He smiles when I eat them, and then I think, maybe he made them for me. . . "Anyway, I stumble to the phone, and that's when I see her, wiping a little vomit from her hair. And ohhh, her hair was so damn silky, like angel hair pasta." I laugh at him, and he growls, but then he smiles again. "And she says in this tiny little voice, 'Oh hello,' and I just stand there, not able to say one word past the wind on my teeth."

I close my eyes for a moment, listening to his story, and then when I open them again, he's not saying anything.

"What?" I get up, and see him pushing the basket away, cause well, it was blocking his way to me I guess.

"You're not interested in this at all are you?" He asks me, teasing and light.

"Oh yeah. I am, honest, I am."

"Oh come on, here," He sits up on his knees. "I'll give you the rest in a cinch."

"Oh fine." I roll my eyes, and he's slowly creeping closer toward me. I smile secretly.

"Well, afterward, I mean, after I leave, I find out she left me her number in my pocket. Smooth little catch, I thought, and then a few days later, I get a call. And at first I don't know the voice, then she tells me about the party and then I'm like, 'Oh I remember, yeah!', like a dork I was, and I ask her how she got my number, and she laughs, saying, 'Oh I got it from one of your silly friends,' and then she tells me her name, Amanda." He whistles through his teeth, "That name always reminded me of a banana. Don't know." I laugh at him shortly, and he just grins. The sky is swirling with colors, now fading, and the day is starting to emerge. "And well," He scoffs, "She asks me out, cause well, she said she can't stop thinking about how out of all the guys, I was the only guy who didn't try anything, and though I 'saved' her, I didn't ask for anything in return."

"Makes sense."

"This is a one-shot, brother." He says at me, and I feel his blackberry breath near my shoe.

"Go on."

"Well, I liked her too, and thought it would be intriguing to see such a nicely," He coughs, "Well-endowed lady again."

I feel his breath suddenly, his kisses near my thigh, but I do not allow myself to see him. I might go insane, might want to take him right then and there, if only I saw his eyes and his lips....

"So she tells me to meet her at the beach. And mind you, this was the summer, and you know how summer flings can seem to last forever. Well, I found out she was a little free spirit, and she decided to take me sky diving. But you see, I'm a terrible swimmer."

And then I get his comment from earlier. I laugh a little, but my concentration is a little blurred by his light, tight, breathy kisses and touches.

"The last time we saw each other, it was here, and she---well, we got into a little argument," A single pull of his hand and my shirt is pulled up, "You have a nice body," He comments, but suddenly he is talking again, "I don't remember what the fuck it was about, but---"

His cheek slides along my stomach, then up, up, up, to my neck. His body leans against mine, and we fit just right.

"It was then---and for god's sake, she knew I couldn't swim, but---she threw me from this ledge, right into the sea."

I shot up then, and as I did, our heads exchanged hits.

"Oww!" He yelps in surprise.

"Shit, shit, shit!" I say, the both of us rolling around like idiots. "I'm sorry!"

"No, uh..." He grabs my hands and pins me underneath him. My head is pounding, but suddenly I'm aware only of his eyes. "Its okay..." He breathes.

I groan a little, and then he slides his hands down my whole torso.

"Its okay..." He says again, and with a subtle grasp, his lips brush along mine, and my whole body trembles.

"I---I..." I start to say.

"Fuck." He says simply, and for the _first time-_--

Like some Damn

Teenagers

--- We snog

We make out ---

Our tongues serpents---with

Our lovely morning breath---

And the pepper mints he hands me after wards. . .

Don't feel as fresh as my life feels

or as fresh as he feels against me

---

and it is

our little

secret

---

And ooohh, he slides and glides and sucks and drains---

And I bite down on his lower lip, and his hand gleams lower---

And soon, the sun is glaring down at us, and though our libido's are hungry, we're full. Tired.

"Come on, babe. Let's pack up, get on home." He says, but his words are like an echo, a whisper in the wind. I'm tired and my head is heavy.

I smile against his lips. "I love you so much." I drawl lazily, hugging him. He seems to be amused.

"I take it you liked our little excursion, did you?"

But I don't respond, instead, I follow him to the car, and I start kissing his neck, trying something new with my teeth and tongue, and soon, I got him moaning and purring like a damn cat.

"Oh... ohhh. Shit, stop." He cries out in a gasping breath, giving me no vocal or physical indication that he _wasn't _enjoying himself.

In a smooth movement, he's roaming his hands, squeezing my ass, and our bodies are hot and happy, even if our clothes are still on.

By the time we get back to his room, we are passed out.

--

When we wake up, he announces: " **You have until tonight to tell me**. "

"Tell what?. . ." I ask, and then I slip under the covers and groan, remembering.

"Yep." He just says and stretches out of bed.

--


	6. virgins of our passion

_It was after my shower and after I had relented, silently to make a change, of shaving my moustache_ (i hate that word),_ I had this quivering feeling, like the little quake in the earth that begins before the storm... but I shook it off and continued to get ready._ _We decided to meet up in his bedroom at six for our date that was originally at four because he said he had some work related stuff to take care of._

I didn't think much of it. So after he went to his office, I went to write, among other things, and take another nap. I woke up at 4:51. I decided to take a long ass shower to pass the time and get ready.

When I ready, it was 5:37. I remembered that I had a present for him, so I got that out, and kissed the wrapping paper as though I was kissing---his neck. Yes, I have a neck fetish, to be exact:_ his_ neck.

I know all the little soft spots on his neck, the sensitive spots and the spot that when the light hits it just right, I immediately want to kiss him everywhere--- the spots that made him quiver if I touched it with my breath, or my lips, or my teeth. I know how to make him---...and we're still virgins to our passion.

5:57. I saw the clock and I grabbed the gift, checking myself once in the mirror, twice, then off to the Warden's---! (for some kinky fun) haha _not_.

I felt that quake again, and it was stronger. I ignored it and placed the purple wrapped box on his bed.

"Hello?" I said.

He wasn't there, it seemed. I checked around for a few minutes, but didn't see him.

I let out a weird, nervous sigh and sat on his bed then- "BLAH! YAY! NEO!" I heard behind me, then---Zoom, _boom_, arms wrap around me and I feel his touch on my hair.

"Johnny!" I screamed more with fright than pleasant surprise.

. . .

"Oh I missed you." He says, and I can't put my finger on it, _how_ he said it. It was almost sad, and not because he missed me. It was---mixed. I felt his excitement too, but it seemed more like blurry confusion. I felt a squeeze at my shoulders, a slight anticipatory whimper came from his lips, and it hit straight to my groin and my reality.

And then there was silence. And---

--I felt a strange magnetic pull----strange because it was---it was pulling me away---so far it was like we weren't even in the same room, and the soft caresses of this beautiful man were only deranged illusions and were not for me, but for my fantasies. I felt wanted, needed, and yet suffocated, _suffocating_. And I felt this in him too, and it scared me. We're becoming the same person in different skin.

And when I look back to my other writing just when our relationship began I see:

---alone together--- and a whole new meaning crumbles like sawdust in my hand, blowing up in my airways, and my heart beats over it, so my coughing is less audible.

---The connection was pulling me close too, so close that I could almost taste him, _all_ of him, his sadness and confusion, that was indeed confusing me, but it was all of these things, and more. So much more, I can't put my finger on it.

The extremes lulled me into a passive medium, and I did nothing, neither did I get closer or further away.

And then: a light break of a gasp, a kiss against my ear, and the connection breaks.

The magentic pull goes haywire, and the quakes turn to a subtle rumble.

--

His hand slides on my hot neck, to my face, hot from strange embarrassment. "You shaved it?"

"Yeah. Thought to..wanted a change."

"Change."

"Yeah." I was out of breath for some reason.

"Oh is th...that for me?" His voice is tired, soft, appreciating. He pokes the box.

"Of course. Its just because." I don't elaborate. Talking seems out of balance with how I feel.

"Because?"

"I wanted to."

He kisses my cheek. "Oh, thank you Jared."

"You're welcome Johnny." And I can't help to hear a little sarcasm in my voice. (what?)

He unwraps it. I don't see his expression. Then I hear the box open. I don't see his expression. I hear it.

"Oh! This... this is...gorgeous!"

I turn over to him. "Here," I take it from him. "Let me put it on you."

"Okay."

Its a watch, custom made, the face is a beautiful violet color, bright silver numbers written in a Gothic style, just cause I thought it was cool, and the wrist part is adjustable and is made of silver, having engraved on it: _Sink or swim, I soar above it all, with _you_. ---Jared_

He smiles faintly, maybe remembering our conversation of 'sinking or swimming'. Then he frowns. I put it on his wrist, and he fingers it a little. "Did this cost too much?"

"Don't worry about that. I have been saving money especially for this." A few seconds go by, then wham!

"Ohhhh!" He practically cries, and wraps his arms around me. "Oh-oh---Jare..Ja..I adore you, you sweet, sweet man!"

I laugh at his bluntness, and_ I actually_ see tears running down his face. "Oh babe, babe." I say, caressing his face. "Its okay."

"Oh. Oh God! You are....I could just kiss you!" This dramatic display, so uncharacteristic, is so strong, I am delirious, and the previous weirdness between us is forgotten. Almost.

"Kiss me or the watch?"

He laughs crazily, and I laugh along.

"The watch, you idiot!" He says, laughing.

He leans over like he's gonna kiss me, then he turns away.

He looks at the watch again.

Now its like he's actually looking at the time, for it tick on by, not because of adoration of the watch itself.

The rumble comes back, and it doesn't end.

And then I suddenly remember. "Oh yeah!" He jumps up, surprised.

He looks at me expectantly.

"Remember. I have to tell you something ab--"

"I need to talk to you first." He says point blank.

. . .

The storm begins.

. . .

But its not loud.

Its not violent.

It quiet, subtle, like a night disease.


	7. the Silence

A few moments go by, and my heart is still and quiet.

I try to breathe, but my lungs are frozen.

Then his hand reaches for mine, and time elapses and moves forward too quickly. Memories of the past months travel swiftly in my brain, vivid, bright, and I wonder why they seem so odd and misplaced now, and the fact that such intense happiness feels so disconcerting to me hurts my head. Our eyes meet for a millisecond, and I feel everything travel between us, all good and bad.

. . .

A lost laugh bursts from him, but its hard to tell if its a cry or a laugh, or both. "I....I was s_car_ed." He looks down. At me again. Then at the watch. "I had no work to do earlier. I was ...scared, for christ's sake Jared!"

I want to shake him, the way he said it so damn... I am jumping inside, my whole entire body is jumping on end. I say: "You're scaring me."

He doesn't reply immediately. "Oh, oh, oh." He rubs his forehead, and our hands flow away from each other. "I had to clear my thoughts. Oh god," He looks at me, and I want to kiss him again. His voice is literally shaking. I don't even think he's really breathing. "I'm not making any fucking sense." I start to speak, but he begins again.

"Baby---" I start, hold his hand, its cold, "You haven't told me anything really."

He takes a ragged breath in, w_hoosh_, out.

TICKTICKTICKT**I**CKTICK.

"I want our relationship to be solid, and I want to tell you honestly when I think there's an issue. And prospectively, its a not a real issue, per-say, but it has been a drudge in my mind for awhile. Off and on." His voice is more like how he usually speaks, and I feel like we can connect, I feel like his head is level, and so is mine.

Okay, _I think_, I can handle this. But maybe I can't.

He takes in a sigh. "I really care for you, and the time we've spent has been... I feel my life opening up. I feel myself changing. I want the change, I hide away from it, and I don't know what to think sometimes. Basically, I love you." He smiles at me, but his eyes are looking at me strangely. "Let me try to elaborate, articulate better."

"But you have been artic--" I begin.

"I almost want us to be apart. Because, I've never, ever, ever had this much happiness, this much love before. Its not even fucking real, you know? It can't be fucking real. I don't know. I don't want too much happiness too soon, just like we had chaos too soon. Its too fucking out there."

He breathes in, I breathe out.

"I have been without it for so long and really secluded from life, and people. Now that we have found each other, I think I can balance it out. We can fight through almost anything, and yet, we are still quivering, lost, vulnerable." He's gesturing with his hands, and I understand every single syllable he whispers. "Our balance is what gives us chaos. Its waiting, waiting, its waiting for us."

I grab his hand and tighten my hold, but he seems....like he's dreaming. Not even here with me, and yet in heart and understanding, we are one.

"I love you. I've never been this sure of anything. I'm not afraid anymore." I say.

He looks at me with this cold look, not in a mean or derogatory way, but like he was... like all the warmth, the security, has vanished like thin vapor from them.

"But don...don't you see? We...we...we ARE chaos! This is chaos!" He stands up, rubs his head, sits down. My heart finds its beat, and stirs and quakes and growls and hisses at me.

"We are fine!" I say in a loud whisper, and I pull him into my embrace. I think, _this must be a relapse. He must be having nightmares, of Faryn, of what happened, of the Twins, that nightmare that turned our love... hes just hysterical_

or maybe we both are, **in**side.

I kiss his forehead. "We are fine."

At least an hour goes by, and we say nothing. But nothing needs to be said. Nothing, because we are safe in each other's arms. And that may be cliche, but I don't give a shit because it is true. God damn it.

"Do you want to know what _I _was going to tell you?" I say in this low whisper.

"Wha?" He replies with a shaky, watery voice.

I smile. But its faraway from my face.

"My father smiled without his eyes." I say suddenly. I am surprised I came out with it, this wasn't what I was going to say.

"He did?" My love says.

"And my mother hardly ever spoke. I was very loud and I never liked to stay in the house long."

"You were?" He laughs a little, and caresses my neck, and I love him more than ever, and for that reason, I keep talking. I feel like talking will settle this violence. This horrible violence.

And no, I _don't mean silence._

"We're just recluses, and damn good ones at that." I say. "It makes sense you would feel that way. Love can feel as deadly and as sickly as cancer, and yet as beautiful and as subtle as a quiet smile on your lover's face."

"Both at the same time." He comments. Smiles at me. I smile at him.

Nothing is said, and yet, so much _is_.

We just lay together.

In this silence.

And in our silence,

collectively,

I feel we _aren't _one, and,

maybe things are getting too much to my head,

and that is Okay.

We are fine.

Together.

--

Am I a walking contradiction?


	8. copper and peppermint

"there is _no_ emotion in your eyes." mother said, walking off, her breath whimpering and shallow; as though she was crying.

father merely sat where he always sat, looking how he always looked, and when mother walk away, nothing changed.

But as his soft, bible creased hand reached for his newspaper, three weeks too old, a _weak_, very visible tear, musty and gray---as gray as the newspaper---fell and landed on a crumbled edge.

It fell and absorbed into the paper.

he started to read soon after, popping a peppermint candy in his mouth.

but maybe he wasn't reading. Maybe i wanted him to be as callous as i had always know him to be. safer that way. and maybe he didnt cry.

but i do know this; there _was_ a wet stain on that newspaper.

_--_

My father always had this faint wisp of copper and peppermint on his hands, his clothes, his breath. He loved the smell of peppermint better than the smell of women's perfume or a dewy sun---grassy and warm. Alternatively, he _hated _the smell of copper; he worked in a copper mill. We always had an excess of peppermint lotion and peppermint chocolate candies. He hated chocolate, but didn't like the look of candy canes (don't ask). He'd suck away all the chocolate, discreetly wipe it on a napkin, and savor the rich mintiness for as long as possible.

I'm writing this because Johnny ...the Warden....my boyfriend wanted me to talk about it more often. He asked me if I had called them since I had left them; to go to college. i didnt say anything about my sister.

I did say though, "a little but then I just stopped. I told them when the fighting would stop, I would start calling them again.'

but I only told Johnny a little truth. They never fought.

they were extremely pacifist in their nature.

it was in the way they looked at each other; and how it always changed and was like thunder and lightning. the farther away the sound of the thunder was away from the noise, the lightning, the farther and more horrible their relationship became. until one day, they were so far away, they forgot they were even married, or even alive.

it was also the way they ate dinner together. the way my mother placed my father's plate on the dinner table.

or lit his menthol cigarettes.

it was in how and when their eyes met; they seemed to _want_ to scream and run away from each other, but their vision stayed in place; as though the torture of their relationship was as comforting and reassuring as the beeping of a heart monitor. it was all they had left.

I never want that. Ever. I'd end a relationship before it got to that point.

I want to be honest. Loving.

I want to smile with my eyes, and love with all of my heart.

and if u don't like it,

**fuck off.**

--

i just, _just told_ johnny about my 'diary' and i had the sudden urge to let him read it.

"u know I really wish that I could understand you. Understand why u would let _anyone_ read something so extremely personal like that." He said with a toothy smile and a glint of strange distrust in his eye. "You must want me to _write _in it."

I shrugged.

"you wanted to know more about my family." I said simply. He whistled through his teeth. i know he hates it when i talk like that; all sulking and stuff. indifferent is a better way to express it. but that's how i feel about my Family.

He stretched up on the bed, his knees to the sheets, kissing my jaw. "I will read it on the weekends."

Then he did a dance, a weird swift turn around and a shake of his hips. "Oooh! Jared, I think I'm going to check on Alice. I heard about these increasing riots and I won't stand for it!" He curls his index finger under his chin. hes so cute. "I think I will suspend all privileges and make a mini world where all of the inmates will have to live in a horrendous desert like place with no food except horribly tasting bugs! No! I'll make them very, very small and crush the ones that started it all! And then they will respect me!" He looked at me, expecting a response.

"You think so?" I ask him.

He curls on the bed and kisses me, I kiss back. mmmmmm his kisses are madness.

"Naw. I think I might just increase the hormones in the inmates food. I'm too bored about it to do that again." But 'that' he was referring to a miniature world. it was overdone to him, just fun to talk about.

"Why hormones?" I ask, a crazy smile on my lips. he makes me crazy sometimes. i like it.

He winks at me, and I gasp in mock surprise. "Oh that is too much to think about!" I pretend to faint on the bed.

"Oh no J, my love! Please don't die!" Johnny squeals. I jump up and hug him, and feel a rush of sadness run through me.

He just grins. "Be right back my loves." He jumps up, twirls around and skips out the door.

--


	9. what's my greatest fear ?

whats my greatest fear ?

**losing you----losing **myself **- -- - -- - -- - -**

if inmates had a spoonful of sugar evry once n awhile would it help the medicine go down?-would it have the same effect without sugar as it would _with it_?

_incarceration_ boy do i love that word

Jared has--I meen _you _have a strange smile-like mona lisa, does anyone ever think of her anymore?--i mean, like, uh, I just---AhhhhhhhHH!

You really, really REALLY give me hope...............................i love your smile

espcially when u think i am not lookin

had brought in puppies so inmates could become more senstive

2 each other.

I wanted to give them something; i meen they think they are better than tiny quivering, weaker things and people in jeneral. Twins gave puppies mutated growth...somethin and

puppies end up eating themselves and others from the inside out. It was horrible. didnt tell u, cept in here.

HORRIBLE.

Oh Im supposed to b readin this right?

wow jared u have a spectatucalar memory

how do u, HOW DO YOU remember conversations so detailed u must have PSYCHO POWERS...

!!!!!!!!!!!

johnny&neo forever~

wow i cant beleive u might have been COOL in your youuth!

weird.

. ~ .

.UU.

0.0

ur such a dork. 'just stare at him sometimes' I know im attractive. ha.

oh god. u write so exquisitely

god

do

i

love

you

U are so ssweeet

la

la

la

la

lalalala

oh today i had a shit day

back to my room

oooh i just dont want to see anyone

i am

frustrated!

----a man needs tissues for what? heard some lame joke a couple a inmates were saying to each other.

its not for his nose? then what?

FIND OUT LATER.

ARGH!

(if only Alice could see how much i want her) oops

I dont mean that JARED!

HAHAHAHA just a joke! hahaha ahhhhhhhhhhh sorry

but that brings me to my next point Im not a very sexual...eww...person and i dont like to think about it all the time or even some of the time.

i mean i thought about alice i know u dont like her but i used to and but

well to be honest no one has ever made me feel like i wanted more out of love than u

um i

well

i

think i want to

be with you

and to be honest

very honest

i think about being with you

like that

quite a lot

well we havent been affectionate in awhile and I would like to kiss you more

a lot more

till u cant breath

or if ur panting

god

cant

think

about that

no no no bad warden!

but i mean i never told u this before but sicne the day we had our picnic, u know what happened later, and god god god i keep having fantasies about it

and it was so passionate

and i never felt that way, it was like my emoitons were giving me this

heightened, electric, orgasmic,

euphoria!

oh god u really get me going sometimes and u dont even know it

u dont

even know

it

ahhh

shit

good night

--

The only time I had sex before we met (i know u will kill me if i said we had sex, ccuz i know we havent yet but yeah hehe)

sex isnt quantifiable to me

if u give me pleasure

then we've had sex in my book

or made love i like that betteer

and if theres more to come than

OKAY!

Its just when I did have sex that one time, it was good, yeah, but i was left feeling EMPTY.

just fucking empty.

u dont

u make me

feel

more than anything

that is

of this earthly world

like we are bbeyond all physical formalities.

if that makes sense

i hope ur not annoyed i AM reading this thing

just like to tell u things I usually cant conversationally.

--

its our 5 month anniversary.

i wanted to give u a really good present hehe but i was too shy to give it

but we havent really been too affectionate im a little worried i might try to make things happen soon

im almost done reading it

like ur poems.

i love them

--

have we ever said

well

i will

Im in love with you

I really am

u really made me feel special tonight

i hope i did for u too

i think i want to be with u forever

i want u so bad somtiems

sometimes

sometimes it hurts

i'll tell u tonight

and give this back to you

i want a god damn strawberry sundae

anyway

last night u were asleep before I was

and I wanted you more than ever

i kissed ur neck and

caressed you body a little

not perverted like

but i like touching u

sometimes

---(i hope u dont hate me for writing in here)

ur life is hard J,

I am

oh god

i appreciate all u have done

and I am so goddam sorry for everything Ive done

harm to u

so sorry

i think

oh shit.

I think I want marry you.

hah.

im glad its legal.

---

I think I love you more for letting me read this.

I understand u so much more now.

And Allie.

Gosh. That is difficult. shit.

u made me cry on more than one ocassion with this thing. welll

See ya!


	10. Together

I think one day we will be more than we are.

I think one day we will see our full potential.

I know

one

day

my love for

life

will grow

just like my love for Johnny never stops

--

I touch his bare chest and kiss his neck

He smiles and licks my face comically

His sighing is slower

his breath is slower

light is ever glowing in my heart

in his eyes

I see him

But I don't

as we cascade our driving

raging

pheromones

in the air

with every breath we take

things got serious quick

and his sighs became guttural, quick cries

and my heart just stops and explodes

--

His handwriting is interesting. Flourescent purple and scribbles.

He was so apologetic for writing in it, but I didn't care, I liked it. Well, whatever.

I loved when he wrote, "I want a goddamn strawberry sundae"

that made my evening

haha

--

We no longer look to the future, well I dont.

He took me to that picnic area we went several months ago.

I couldn't believe it

when he asked me for marriage

then I woke up

ha

well I dream about being with him forever.

I mean

who else could he have in mind?

--

I think this is the end of my writing.

I just want to say

We are so impossible

Hes sleeping next to me as

i write this

so yeah

um

I whisper, "your like my own special heart monitor."

"sometimes you make it stop, then"

"just before its forever shocked"

"you carry it full blast"

"and I no longer feel alone."

"Just with you, together."

I kiss his cheek tenderly.

"I love"

I stutter a little.

Then hes awake and sees me writing.

Goodnight.


End file.
